


A Chance to Start Again

by eventually_add_a_username



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, heavy spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-05 02:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eventually_add_a_username/pseuds/eventually_add_a_username
Summary: Akechi Goro faces his ultimate downfall in the boiler room of Shido's cruiser; the Phantom Thieves declare him dead and his existence essentially disappears for the rest of story.But what actually happened to the fallen Detective Prince? The Wild Card is sent back on a new but strangely familiar journey to finding his true self, but in someone else's shoes—and in someone else's fate.





	1. Retrace Your Steps

It was a standoff with himself, he stared down the barrel of the gun of a man who looked identical to him. This imposter’s eyes were hollow, dull, devoid of any emotion. Goro Akechi’s eyes were filled with determination, fear, and acceptance. 

They both pulled their triggers simultaneously while a deafening crack echoed through the empty room. Goro tumbled to the ground as a bullet became lodged deep in his stomach. The other man was not so lucky. His limp body fell to the floor with a thud. 

Goro turned his head towards his opponent. Blood seeped from the gaping wound in his left eye socket. His remaining eye, however, maintained the same barren, coldblooded stare. Akechi could feel a puddle forming underneath him—he was losing blood fast. The world around him became blurry as he phased in and out of consciousness. Tears pricked his eyes as muffled screams rose through the locked door behind him. The last thing he could hear was his name from a frantic bellow as his vision flooded with black.

* * *

Goro cracked open his eyes, wincing as his sight was overwhelmed by blinding, sterile whiteness.

“W…Where am I…?”

He tried to hold his hands to his face to no avail. Only a mere outline of his fingers was visible within the excruciating light. The young man dropped to his side, succumbing to an agonizing, unanticipated pain shooting through his abdomen. His two hands moved away from his face and instinctively to the ache. He felt his digits immediately becoming drenched with what Akechi could only assume was blood. The air began to reek of iron. He felt the fluid flow past his fingers and down his midriff.

“So…This is it, huh…” He murmured, “This is how I’m gonna go out…” 

“It seems that way now, doesn’t it?” A deep ethereal voice boomed from high above.

“Who said that?” Goro shot up in surprise, briefly ignoring the pain in his stomach.

The ominous voice chuckled, “That is not of importance, child. Now then, stand up.” To Goro’s astonishment, he felt his body rise up to his feet effortlessly. 

“What’s happening? Who are you?” The young man inquired restively.

The entity did not answer his questions, “Walk forward and you will learn soon enough.” Yet again, Goro felt his body move without his control. He propelled forward, his legs unmoving, to seemingly nowhere.  
He had been moving forward for quite sometime until a doorway appeared without warning in the distance. The mysterious voice piped up once more, “Continue to the doorway.”

“Well, everything I’ve done as of right now has been out of my control so, sure.” Goro replied contemptuously as he staggered to the doorway, this time of his own accord. An assortment of faint, dissonant voices could be heard from the opposite side of the entryway.

“Walk through this door.” The being demanded.

“And what if I don’t?”

“You will ultimately perish here if you decide to stay. I can sense you have lost a dangerous amount of blood. Go past the threshold and be healed, or you can remain here and bleed yourself dry.”

The voice was right—he had nothing left to lose but his life if he proceeded or not. His compliance came with reluctance. Akechi took a deep breath and squeezed his eyelids shut. He tread one foot through the doorway, his chest overflowing with apprehension. He had no idea what to expect. Out of nowhere, the same supernatural force from before thrusted his entire body past the threshold, ejecting him from the cryptic plane of existence.

* * *

The young man stepped out the doorway to the opposite side, an unbearable brightness still beaming at his face. He held his right forearm up high to shield his corneas. The light began to dissipate as his eyesight gradually recovered. The indiscernible voices were louder now, as if there were people right in front of him walking back and forth.

“Are you gonna move or what?” An aggressive voice scolded from behind. It did not sound like the same preternatural voice from before, but instead sounded like it came from a disgruntled middle-aged man.

“H-Huh?” Akechi turned around. His vision had fully recovered at this point. It was indeed a disgruntled middle-aged man who chided him. Akechi was about to raise his left hand to wave in apology only to find it weighed down by something. He averted his sight to the ground. The floor beneath him was no longer unending blankness but was instead grey spackled tiles faded by the endless onslaught of daily commuters.

He looked to his side to see that his fingers were tightly wound around the handle of a brown leather briefcase instead of grasping the bloody wound in his abdomen which had miraculously disappeared. The dazed boy shot back up to meet the gaze of the same businessman alongside other glares from the growing crowd of passengers in the train car anxiously awaiting their now delayed debarking.

“Hurry it up, we’ve got places to go!”

“Is this guy serious right now?!”

“C’mon, I’m gonna be late!” 

Goro curtly stepped to the side to allow the aggravated passengers to step off the locomotive. The final passenger scurried onto the platform and shot a dirty look at Akechi before the train slammed its doors shut and sped off into the distance.

Akechi held a hand to his forehead as he tried to recombobulate himself. It was obvious he was in a train station, a Japanese one judging from the language used on the advertisements and information boards, and not to mention the large masses of Japanese people gathering on the platform.

That was good sign.

At least he wasn't thrown into some random foreign country, forced to fend for himself while babbling a language that no one else understood. He looked from side to side, scanning his surroundings. Familiarity struck him deeply, he used to frequent this stop often. His eyes drifted upwards as he studied the white sign hanging above him. It read ‘Shibuya’ underlined with a green arrow pointing to the next stop, Shinjuku.

“This is the Yamanote line from Shibuya…” He pondered, “How is that possible?” He was disorientated by the fact that he walked through a mystical portal and somehow ended up at a train station in the heart of Tokyo. Then again, it was no different than traversing back and forth from the Metaverse. But still, to him it felt completely foreign just being able to waltz straight into a crowd of people who were completely oblivious to his random materialization.

Without any guidance or remaining insight left, Goro sighed and aimlessly walked down the platform towards the main concourse.

The hustle and bustle of thousands upon thousands of commuters rushing around the station was not a new sight for Akechi. He passed through the wide corridor, lit brightly by the colorful glowing support beams arranged single-filed in front of each other, spanning the entire thoroughfare. The young man couldn’t help but marvel at the effort put in to making the station as appealing as possible, despite traversing it countless times already in the past.

The huge mural stretching across the foyer, the pure symmetry prevalent within the whole structure, and the sheer vibrancy splashed throughout the architecture managed to add some to color to something as monotonous as trudging to a train line that led to the typical dead-end desk job. Even the colors used to distinguish each route from each other that was painted on the ground and on the gates contributed to the aesthetic. All this color still failed to remove the dark, apathetic outlook staining the soul of each and every denizen walking the grounds of the station. 

Akechi snapped himself away from his train of thought, his eye catching a negligible anomaly as he wandered past the help kiosk. The date ran past the screen that normally displayed information for lost tourists and route delays. It read, “1 2 A P R I L , 2 0 1 4.” The eighteenth of December 2016 was the last date that Akechi could recall before falling into that ethereal plane, but the monitor insisted otherwise. It was almost two years into the past, two years and eight months, to be precise.

“That can’t be right…” Goro contemplated to himself, “Unless… when I walked out of that door-“ He stopped midway through his thought, “No. That can’t possibly be it…”

He stepped up to the kiosk, “Excuse me, miss.” He sought the attention of the clerk behind the counter who was absorbed by whatever was on the computer screen in front of her, “I know this might sound like a stupid question but, what’s today’s date?”  
The woman looked up from the screen and smiled, “Why today is Saturday, April twelfth, of course.”

“Umm… could I get a year as well?”

She chuckled at his odd question, “I don’t know if you’re joking or not, but it’s 2014, sir.” The dates lined up and verified Akechi’s speculations. Somehow, some way, he was thrown thirty-two months into the past. 

The recent turn of events spiraled the teenager further into confusion and shock. First, he was on the verge of death with a bullet lodged in his abdomen, eventually waking up in some mystical realm of existence in which a menacing voice implored him to walk through a mysterious door, and then somehow stepped off a train from the Yamanote line into Shibuya Station in perfect health. Not to mention that it was nearly three years in the past.

“What the hell is going on?!” He yelled out voraciously.

“Sir? Are you alright?” The woman at the desk inquired shyly.

“O-Oh, me?” Akechi’s eyes darted back at the lady, “I’m okay, trust me.” He was unaware that he got lost in his thoughts again for a fair amount of time and just yelled at this probably now terrified woman. Attempting to cut the awkwardness of the situation as quickly as possible, he shuffled away, continuing down the concourse and out the station to Central Street.


	2. Back to Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding your way back sure is a bitch when you hardly know how to read your map.

As Goro walked down the pathway that led to Station Central, he paused and examined his reflection in the large, stainless steel plates that lined the walls. He was too distracted by his predicament to even notice what he was wearing. To the average passerby, he could be mistaken for any random young businessman. He donned a simple white long-sleeved dress shirt tucked into a pair of accompanying charcoal dress pants held up by a simple black leather belt, accented by umber-hued wingtips. He did not bother questioning how he got into these clothes because everything else that had happened up to this point was far more perplexing. Besides his clothing, his appearance did not seem to change at all. He did not look any younger than he already was, as if his body was transported to this point of time instead of aging backwards like he initially thought. Would that mean he would run into a past version of himself? Would it cause some sort of ripple in the timeline if he interacted with himself? Is he just remembering his former appearance incorrectly? He shrugged, brushing off those thoughts as fast as they came. Goro was soon caught off guard by the stiff breeze seeping in from outside. It was unseasonably cold for this part of the year. His breath trailed out of his mouth as the temperatures were nearly half of what the monthly average was. He was completely under-dressed for this weather. The frigid wind easily pierced through his thin dress shirt, eliciting a violent shiver from the tan-haired boy. He thought about turning around and taking a short rest by crepe stand and remain enveloped by the comfort provided by the station’s industrial heating system and by the sweet aroma of strawberries and crème from a freshly prepared crepe. He deferred however as his mind was fixated on the diner not too far away from the station. His travels through dimensions and time, also not forgetting his mortal gunshot wound, had left him famished and exhausted. He desired a warm bowl of kake udon and a place to relax. The diner provided just that: a homely atmosphere and comforting food. It _had_ been over two years since his last meal, after all. He braced himself, venturing out into the cold.

His almond bangs flew over his eyes from the relentless gusts of freezing air. He didn’t have the luxury this time of absorbing the vivacious atmosphere around him as he struggled to ignore the arctic blasts. Alas, from his tiresome journey across the cramped crosswalks and through crowds of people meandering about the shopping plaza, Akechi walked up the staircase into the Shibuya diner. He was finally safe and sheltered from the stinging cold. Goro was met with a delightful aroma of green tea and miso soup. The homely atmosphere was filled with the gentle conversations of other customers and with the shuffling of staff members in kitchen, preparing a variety of orders. He walked up to the host, who in turn showed Akechi to a vacant booth. He set his briefcase down on the table and plopped himself on the leather chair. He was still frustrated, not only at his impasse but also at his gnawing famishment. Maybe while he enjoyed a warm bowl soup, he could ultimately make sense of his mind-boggling dilemma. The teenager pressed the call button, ready to place his order.

He glanced at his briefcase as he waited for his meal to arrive. This was not the same metal attaché case he normally carried around, surprisingly. It had a rustic brown color, was littered with a fair share of scuffs and scratches, and was undoubtedly missing the large ‘A’ emblazoned on the front of his normal attaché. Regardless, he flicked the latches up and swung it open for the first time. An exasperated sigh arose from his throat when he saw a neatly folded pewter pea coat sitting in the middle of the luggage. He flung the jacket across the table in frustration, continuing to rummage through the suitcase. A smartphone still connected to a wall adaptor, a wallet with a few thousand-yen in it, a fresh set of clothes, a collection of random school supplies. Besides that, there was not really anything else that caught Goro’s eye. He was ready to shut the briefcase before spotting a manila envelope peaking from the top compartment. He pulled it out curiously and set it on the table.

A female voice piped up from his side, “Your meal’s ready, sir!” Akechi diverted his attention to the waitress as she came by and set the tray on the tabletop. Goro gave his thanks to the girl as she bowed and left. 

The tan-haired boy turned back to the file sitting in front of him. He eyed it, questioningly. There was no chance it was a case file—he had not become a detective yet. He had no idea what was in it. One hand was on the folder, another clasping his cup of green tea. He grabbed the edge of the portfolio and flipped it open. Inside it revealed a dossier of none other than Akechi Goro.

 _“Why would I need this?”_ His auburn eyes slowly scanned the contents. There were several miscellaneous papers and packets in the folder that all pertained to him, _“There’s no reason to be carrying this much sensitive information on person…”_

He sipped his drink as he read the details quietly to himself, wanting to investigate further. All the information checked out, sans a few of the physical descriptions from his fifteen-year-old self that no longer matched his current physique. He flipped through the remaining papers—mostly uninteresting legal papers; proofs of residency and birth, legal declaration that legitimized his status as an independent minor, a passport although he had yet to travel outside of the country, and other documents alike. The last one stood out: it was an admittance letter to a private academy. He merely glanced at the certificate and smirked, briefly reminiscing over his overwhelming academic success.

Out of nowhere, Goro felt a cramp in his abdomen. He looked down to make sure if his bullet wound actually disappeared. The twisting in his gut was only a benign hunger cramp. He neglected his hunger for far too long. He pushed the stack of papers aside and dug his chopsticks into the bowl of thick noodles.

As he finished the last of his dish and the hunger knowing at his stomach finally subsided, it finally dawned on him why he was carrying such an odd assortment of items.

 _“April 12 of 2014… A briefcase carrying a file with all my important legal papers, an admittance letter, heck even a spare change of clothes. It all makes sense now.”_ Goro had a sudden revelation. 

“How could I forget? Today’s the day I moved to Tokyo to transfer to Kosei High School.” He spoke aloud.

“That’s wonderful!” The brown-haired boy hopped up in chair, startled by the waitress’s voice. She had been waiting there for quite some time for Akechi to pay his bill, “Payment, please!” She smiled, holding the check in front of his face.

* * *

Goro bowed as he left his payment with the waitress, the bustle of the restaurant simmering down to a soft babble as the night went on. He stepped out of the establishment, this time wearing his woolen pea coat. It had gotten significantly darker outside since he arrived, but unlike the diner, the frantic commotion of Tokyo’s nightlife refused to waver. 

Akechi headed back to the train station with no specific goal in mind. Despite uncovering more insight on the predicament at hand, he was still left in a daze, unsure of what to follow up with. The only course of action left stirring in his mind was to head back home, if he could even remember his old address, and prepare for his transfer to Kosei the following day.

His wavering feet stopped at the expected horde of bystanders amassing at the curb in the distance. An ocean of humanity flowed and ebbed through the vastness of Shibuya Crossing on the daily, automobiles and humans taking turns stampeding the asphalt vastness in their fight for dominance. The streets would run dry of life and abruptly inundate with a vicious rip current of steel, rubber and car horns. Civilians would reassert themselves soon enough; once the emerald glow above them shifted to crimson, they trampled the tarmac with no mercy. The cycle was ferocious and undying, but it was necessary for the urban society to function.

The wait for the traffic lights was taking longer than usual. Akechi stood at the base of the crosswalk, standing restively for the signals the switch. He sighed and slipped out his smartphone in the meantime.

“Alright past self, where did you used to live…” He muttered to no one in particular. His index finger tapped on his navigation app, ready to punch in the directions to his former student apartment.

The young man paused for a moment in befuddlement, “Where _did_ I used to live?” He closed his eyes, hoping that some sort of landmark or street name would could to mind, but came back fruitless.

 _“It was only three years ago, Come on!”_ Goro scolded himself internally, _“How come I’m drawing a blank on this?!”_

After what seemed like an eon, the pedestrian lights finally changed from red to green, snapping Akechi from his trance. Oddly enough, the onslaught of passersby failed to follow when the soon-to-be Kosei pupil strode forward.

Goro walked alone in the middle of the dry, concrete riverbed, expecting a rush of warm bodies that never came. He looked ahead to see the masses of people across from him standing completely still. Puzzled and unnerved, the high schooler turned around only to be greeted by the same alarming sight—the crowd behind him stood motionless, every movement sputtered to an ungraceful halt. A deafening silence replaced the dissonant chorus of idle chatter and scrambling footsteps. The world was standing completely still, including all but the lone student.

He blinked, the breath in his lungs stolen by the bewildering spectacle. His shock was only momentary though; he broke from the daze, his attention averting to the phone vibrating violently in his hand. An unsettling yet familiar emblem of a demonic eye overtook the display. Bloody red continued to fill the screen and seized the entire device.

His concentration was no longer at the slab of glass and metal in his hands, and abruptly snapped back to the cityscape frozen in time as a colossal explosion of scarlet detonated in the plaza before him. Goro stumbled backwards and held his arms to his face, shielding himself from the mystical shrapnel and smoke barreling towards him. He felt his throat dry up and struggled to keep his eyes peeled through the tremendous sting of the unearthly fumes clouding around him. 

The fog finally cleared up enough for his bleary vision to catch a full glimpse of ground zero. Through the ethereal smoke and debris stood a sinister smile, its gaze piercing deep into Akechi’s very being. The demon’s silhouette was a sight unfamiliar to Akechi. He glared back steadfast and grinned wickedly with equal fervor to the beast before him. The figures inched closer to each other, almost as if they were trying to tip one another off the brink and into battle.

Goro came face to face with the being, their impish smiles growing wider as he uttered a single word.

“Loki.”

Before he knew it, his sight flooded with white and the lifeless environment vanished in an instant. This time, Akechi was the only one motionless within the frantic intersection. The world carried on with its hasty timetable, acting as if nothing happened. He needed to carry on as well if he wanted to find his way back home. Jumbled thoughts of the events mere seconds ago were hurriedly pushed to the back of his mind as he scurried across the remainder of the crosswalk.

* * *

Akechi fiddled with his plain keychain restlessly. The tag on it merely said what apartment number it belonged to, but nothing in regard to an actual address. A new morning was eager to encroach on the waning night and also on his patience as he leaned back on a pillar in the station, absolutely dumbfounded. He had spent more time than he preferred trying to remember his former address. The clock was already ticking to midnight and the increasingly frustrated young adult had his face buried in his hands. He rummaged through his briefcase for any clues on where he should be heading but came up empty handed. Fatigued, auburn eyes had scanned every train line in the immense abyss of a train station, but no memories sparked whatsoever—it was like there was just a giant, random gap in his mental timeline. Exhaustion was getting the best of him, he thought. Sure, his mortal wound was gone but all the tension from his former life was still there. His muscles ached from his last stand battle that hasn’t even happened yet, his cranium pulsed painfully from two otherworldly encounters in one day, his mind was scrambled from god knows what was going on anymore, and his noodle bowl wasn’t sitting too well in his stomach. He let drawn-out sigh escape his chest and focused back in on his objective with whatever dwindling concentration he had left.

_“I didn’t live too far from Shibuya my first year, but that doesn’t really help me…”_

__

_“I just came from Shinjuku so that’s ruled out…”_

__

_“I was a broke high schooler, so there’s no way I lived in Minato, let alone Aoyama… I doubt I could’ve even afforded an apartment there even with all my idol detective commission…”_

__

_“I definitely didn’t live in the school dorms, thankfully…”_

__

_“I lived westbound from Shibuya, then… I didn’t live in Meguro, did I?”_

__

_“That only leaves out Setagaya, and the closest residential district to Shibuya is in Yongen-Jaya—"_

__

As those thoughts formed in Akechi’s mind, an abrupt sharp pain pierced through his head like a silver bullet. Memories he didn’t even know existed—memories that shouldn’t have existed—inundated the empty void in his memory.

He vocally interjected his train of thought, “Wait. I’m an idiot.” He spoke aloud, as if the answer was stapled to his head the entire time, utterly disregarding the retentive struggle seconds ago.

_“Did I really forget something so obvious? I lived right down the street from the Yongen-Jaya station.”_

Not wanting to waste any more time, and also ignoring his chagrin, Goro picked up his suitcase and made his way to the Den-en-toshi ticket gate.

The late-night express train eased to a halt at student’s destination, the loudspeaker confirming it for him, “Yongen-Jaya, this is Yongen-Jaya…” He rubbed his tired eyes as he stepped off, almost tripping on his own two feet as he climbed up the flight of stairs out the station. The sight of the borough at night filled him with a peculiar sense of nostalgia, despite his last visit being a few weeks ago, before he severed all ties with the same people he was trying to incarcerate. Maybe that’s why this place felt pulled at his heart. Did he miss the simple camaraderie between him and the vigilante group, even if most of his acceptance was feigned? Did he miss having some sort of bond with another human being, despite it being fastened only with a fraying thread? Did he desire something more with a certain someone on the team that he stabbed in the back? No, that couldn’t be it. Absolutely not the last one. Goro shook his head, believing that his drowsiness was clouding his judgement.

The tan-haired man already made his way halfway down the boulevard before brusquely stopping at an intersection to an alleyway to his right. _“Oh, the irony,”_ He mused, staring at the storefront to a café from the street corner, _“I lived in Yongen for almost two years but never bothered to step foot in that place until **after** I moved out… And after **he** showed up…”_ The teenager sighed with mirth as he continued down the cracked pavement, restraining himself with his remaining brainpower from bringing up the thoughts from before, fearing they would spiral him down a path in his mind that he didn’t want to traverse again.

“Well, this is it.” Akechi laid his eyes on a rather old-looking brick apartment building at the end of the street. He glanced back down at his keychain, confirming the studio number. “Time to look for apartment 32B…” The complex felt unfamiliar as he made his way further up the staircases; it felt like he was at the wrong address. His keys told otherwise while the lock turned, and the door gave way. Goro walked straight into the apartment before tripping onto a large obstruction right in front of him.

“Maybe I should turn the lights on first…” He exhaled exasperatedly, brushing himself off as he fumbled for the light switch on the wall. Ahead of the semi-prone boy was a large cardboard box addressed to himself sitting in the middle of the hallway. He flipped the keys still in his hand and slashed through the clear tape sealing the parcel, revealing several of his belongings. He tossed the neatly folded pile of clothes at the very top haphazardly into his wardrobe, lacking enough energy for him to care whether or not it would be wrinkled in the morning. The weary student rummaged through the rest of the contents unenthusiastically, only desiring a warm shower and the comforting bliss of a soft mattress beneath him. As he pulled out his shampoo and body wash, ready to step into the shower, a small unmarked package near the bottom caught his eye. It was crudely constructed of silvery cellophane and seemingly enshrouded some sort of fabric. He pulled the item out of the cardboard box and tore it open. The packaging gave way and out fell a pair of plaid trousers and suspenders, soon followed by a black four-button blazer oddly accentuated with bright red. Finally, a white cotton turtleneck adorning two black chevrons at the neck plopped out of the plastic and onto the floor with the rest of the uniform.

“This is a Shujin Academy uniform,” He scratched his head at the distinct school attire, “There must have been some sort of mistake.” Mystified, he dug deeper into the box only to find more of the same; a few more uniform sets, gym uniforms, and a black nylon school bag all branded with the Shujin emblem. “There must have been some sort of mistake during shipping. I know with full confidence that I did not pack these in here.”

Seeking reassurance, Akechi flung his briefcase open hastily and searched for his admittance letter. “There’s no doubt that I attended Kosei my first year…” Heartening himself that a mailing error was committed last second.

Akechi felt his heart sink into his stomach as the words on paper betrayed him. “This can’t possibly be correct! I just looked at it at the diner!” Akechi’s fingers curled tighter around the paper, bloodshot eyes widening as he reread the letter, “H-How is this possible?!” There, inscribed front and center, was the insignia of none other than Shujin Academy.

“Congratulations on your admittance to _Shujin Academy_?!” He shouted the line word for word into the emptiness of his apartment. He slumped over onto his knees with his chest filling with dejection and defeat, “C-Congratulations on your admittance to Shujin Academy…” The exhausted high schooler didn’t to want to dwell on this any longer. He was thoroughly convinced that he had actually died after the gunshot and was in purgatory, or some of the seized drugs from the crime lab back at the police precinct had found its way into his system and was having an awful acid trip from it.

.

.

.

.

.

He huffed wryly with his face planted on the hardwood flooring, “At least my rent is still fully covered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a lot to take in.
> 
>  **Edit:** I have no idea why both notes are appearing here lol.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first piece and I have no idea where I'm going with it.
> 
> Edit: I forgot to mention that the first few chapters are going to be pretty Goro-centric.


End file.
